


Shortstacked

by Nitrobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Crack, Early Mornings, Gen, Humor, I couldn't let the perfect title go to waste, Robot boobs make life worth living
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning routine of serial killers, interrupted by the revelation that Nickel’s armour makes her look much… smaller than she actually is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shortstacked

The DJD weren't usually inclined to rise as early as their caretaker, Tarn especially so with how long it took to strap his armour plates on, but a boring bloodless evening previously sent them all to recharge whole breems before any of them felt the need to.

With the blue sun barely swelling in the blank sky outside, Tarn rose to the sound of his colleagues all finding something to complain about and, as expected, Nickel’s berth empty opposite his own. Despite his protests she’d insisted on a room to herself at first, but then the nightmares would happen and she'd end up snoozing next to someone regardless. And, apparently, she liked listening to Tarn snore. He wasn't one to deny a lady’s desires.

As the mech rattled lethargy out of his vents, Kaon passed by the door before snapping back a nanoklick later, peering around the door frame but not quite daring to enter. “Tarn, have you seen the pet anywhere? He usually rests at the bottom of my berth…”

Tarn didn’t waste effort in rolling his optics, or asking if he looked like the mongrel’s keeper. “Did you check _under_ it?” he suggested, and thankfully it was enough to send Kaon scurrying off again.

Eventually, boredom with their own processors and grumbling tanks sent them all trudging towards the makeshift ration room, with Tarn almost trampling Kaon and Vos as the two mechs almost fell over each other in the doorway. The larger mech glared down at them, only holding back from shoving them out the way when he noticed Nickel perched at the table, an energon cube cupped in one hand while the other petted the turbofox’s muzzle placed gently in her lap. With how young the day still was, it shouldn't have been that surprising to see her in much thinner, lighter armour than she usually cased herself in. And it probably wouldn't have been, if the armour was capable of holding the mounds of morning-blue protoform spilling out from under helm and over the top of the table, stopping short of a datapad she’d been glancing over. She was drinking when she caught sight of the avalanche of mechs breaking through the doorway, all wide optics pointed on her and mouths empty as they hung open like their limp glossas were made of lead.

“You're all up early for once,” she noted, setting her cube down with a yawn and stretching her servos out, the creaking arch of her spinal strut making the pronouncement of her uncovered, almost bare chestplates all the more obvious. The pet yawned as well and nuzzled closer to the thrums of heat that must have been radiating through from her spark.

With Helex and Tesarus now jostling behind for a better view, Tarn had to almost throw the smaller mechs aside so they could all enter. “Good morning, Nickel…” He seemed to be the only one capable of working his vocaliser, but even he struggled to keep it stable with his optics inevitably dragged back down to her chest. For the first time since he'd met the mech he envied Kaon, with no optics to betray where he was looking.

Though if Nickel even registered their shocked ogling, she didn't show it. She only scoffed over her energon at the greeting, turning back to her datapad while she scratched idly behind the pet’s audio panels. “Good for _you_ , maybe. Thanks to a certain mech thinking he was so smart shoving an entire crate of Minicons through his chest, I was up half the night getting plating and fuel out of the blades. You're welcome by the way, Tesarus.” She went to take another sip from her energon, but paused halfway when she didn't hear any stuttered excuse or murmur of thanks from the big shredder. Her optics, bleary from lack of recharge yet still sharper than any of theirs on a good day, danced from Tesarus to Helex and his oven dinging away, to Tarn and the energon rushing around his hidden faceplate, to Vos and Kaon who both seemed to be hiding behind the other. She must have realised the source of the silence when she looked at Tarn, from how her eyeridges creased and antenna flicked up incredulously.

“What, you've never seen a set of chestplates before?” She planted her servos on her hips, revealing every curved inch of her protoform and almost making Helex implode from the heat of his own chamber going haywire. Her question broke the stunned silence and prompted an entire chorus of determined denials with Vos going through his entire Primal Vernacular dictionary (though Kaon answered with an apparently obvious yes). 

“It's just that… with someone of your frame, we weren't expecting yours to be so…” Tarn struggled to find the right word, one that wouldn't leave alone in his quarters that night.

Luckily, Tesarus took the chance for him. “Robust…?” Even the pet flashed him a look that said no, not the right word, you imbecile.

“Not that it’s a problem, n-not at all,” Helex rushed to put in, trickling water on the inferno of annoyance in Nickel’s creased optics. “There's no code for wearing armour, after all. I think.” He added the last part on with a nervous glance at Tarn, but when he looked back at the femme whatever fury she'd built up had collapsed as quickly as it flared up.

“Good, cause I'm not putting any on for at least two more breems,” she informed them with a smile, downing the last of her energon and sweeping her pad up. The turbofox at her peds slinked away when she stood, waiting for one last pat before returning loyally to Kaon’s side. Every step made her chestplates sway like they were weights, bouncing slightly as she stopped near Kaon. “Sorry about stealing the pet away, Kaon. He followed me when I woke up,” Nickel said to the mech as he tried to stop his jaw from hanging so slackly. 

“N-no problem, really…” He rubbed at his chin as Nickel sauntered past the crowd of enchanted mechs all watching and wondering at the same time how she even managed to stand up with the strain those protoform mounds must have put on her spinal strut. Vos clicked something out in Primal Vernacular, and Tarn didn't even need to translate it to know what he was saying.

“I agree, Vos. Primus made her just to torment us.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said no more IDW fics but a friend put forth the headcanon that Nickel has a significantly sized rack despite her armour hiding it, and I love it tbh ~~but not as much as Tarn does eyyyy~~  
>  Honestly I really exaggerated how big they are but compared to how teeny her frame is it's a wonder she can stand up.


End file.
